Divergent 4 Resurgent
by Naraauteur21
Summary: Tobias is struggling to recover from the loss of Tris, with the rebirth of Chicago. Fate will force him to make crucial choices, bringing hopes of a fresh start. But what about his poignant questions? Divergence; genetics; what meaning is to be found there? Will Tobias and his friends be able to continue the works of Beatrice Prior?
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Chicago is very different now.

Tobias walks the streets, his hands carelessly thrust into the pockets of his long black coat. At first, two years ago, after moving into the now peaceful city, he would avoid going anywhere that might reawaken painful memories.

But the spirit of Tris is everywhere in the city. Transforming it was her life's work: it could never have been done without her courage. Close to the Erudite laboratories, the Center for the Study of Divergence bears her name, commemorating her life. The gray and white buildings are coming back to life, and many of the windows are colorful now, as people give free rein to their long-suppressed imagination.

Even after two years, Tobias has forgotten nothing, not a single detail: his heart still aches every time he thinks of Tris. When her ashes were scattered, some days ago, he knew that she would follow him forever, wherever he goes. That cannot help him to forget her: those memories can never die. He hopes that she would have been proud of him for tackling the zip-line, at long last, to honor her memory.

The civil war between the factions has left behind many orphans, and torn many families apart. The old haunt of the Factionless, right by the railway leading to the Amity farms, has been completely renovated, and is now a center for all those who have lost people close to them. Major renovations works have brought the dilapidated building back to life, making it bright, airy, and welcoming. Several people have taken up permanent residence there.

"Tobias."

The young man turns quickly. Lost in his thoughts, he hadn't heard anyone approaching. When Caleb stops next to him, Tobias briefly closes his eyes. He still has problems being near Tris's brother. He has tried really hard to forgive Caleb for letting Tris sacrifice herself to save his life. He knows she would have wanted him to do so. But it hasn't made it any easier to get on with Caleb, who reminds him too much of Tris.

"Morning, Caleb," Tobias mutters, without much enthusiasm.

"I've been looking for you everywhere. Your office told me that I might find you here." says Beatrice's brother.

"I was thinking things over as I walked. I've promised to go to the orphanage. Some people I know want to show me what they have achieved after… after the past two years."

"Yes, I know. Have you been there yet?"

"Not yet, no, I was on my way. Why were you looking for me?" says the ex-Dauntless, to cut short the conversation.

"We've got something to show you. The results of our research," says Caleb cautiously.

"I don't know if I really want to see that," answers Tobias, harshly.

"It's important, Tobias. I know it must be hard for you, but you have to come. We need you."

Tobias hesitates. He's never yet set foot in the Center. He can't imagine going there.

"I can't see how I could help you. I'm not a scientist."

"We don't need science. Tobias, I…. Try to trust to me on this." says Caleb calmly.

"OK, OK, I'll come. I'll see you there after I've been to the orphanage."

The young Dauntless casts a somber glance at Caleb, and turns away. He has never managed or even wanted to overcome the effects of his close, but sometimes complicated relationship with Caleb's sister. Getting over her loss doesn't interest him. They spent only a few months together, but with a lifetime's worth of intensity. When she died, all he wanted to do was to follow her. Or to forget everything. But Tris would not have wanted even one life more to be lost in that senseless war. For her sake, he carried on, day after day. And Christina has been his true friend since that time, brought together by suffering, each missing someone they loved. Christina was the one who stopped him taking the forgetfulness serum. He couldn't imagine enduring the pain of loss and memories. In fact, he can't bear it; he just uses the pain to avoid forgiving himself for being alive, without her.

He still doesn't know, even today, if he'll ever be able to regain some form of serenity in his life. With a sigh, he pushes open the orphanage door. Although the outside has not yet been repainted, just cleaned and repaired, and the windows mended, the entrance hall is spacious, clear, well maintained, and made brighter by plenty of greenery. Around the edge of the room, small groups of tables offer space for children and the elderly, where group leaders propose all kinds of activities. A few children are shouting as they run after each other at the back of the room, through the corridors branching off the entrance hall in a star shape.

Tobias heads towards the offices on the left, his sneakers squeaking on the clean white tiles, and knocks on the door. The voice of Donna, the director, tells him to come in. The office is small and cluttered, but children's drawings paper one wall with color, giving a joyful feel to the room.

On the wall next to the window is the smiling face of Tris. He never had a photo of the young woman: the Abnegation weren't allowed to take photos of themselves, as that would have been considered vanity, and even after her change of faction at the time of the Choosing Ceremony, the war hadn't left much time for such whimsical desires.

The black-and-white drawing, in soft lead pencil, a masterpiece of contrast, smiles down at him. Wherever you stand, its gaze seems to follow you. Tobias finds it hard to tear his eyes away from the picture.

"It is like her, isn't it?" says Donna, kindly.

"Yes, it is," he answers with a voice that trembles more than he would have wanted.

"It was drawn by the mother of a young Divergent girl in the Candor faction, who was saved by Beatrice."

Tobias takes his eyes off the picture to look at the director, smiling a little sadly. She's middle-aged, with blue eyes, short white hair, and her face is sweet and gentle. She smiles as she too looks at the picture, making the corners of her eyes crinkle.

"Tris would have loved this place. It's good to have opened it," says Tobias.

"We really wanted to, and so many people needed it. I wasn't sure that you would come, Tobias."

"Tris's memory is alive. I'm glad nobody can forget her."

"Come with me, I'll show you round."

Tobias follows her through the corridors, and the renovated, white-painted rooms, decorated with children's drawings and bright-colored paintings.

There are workshops, a nursery, dormitories, lounges, bedrooms, and bathrooms. One wing is made up of studio appartments for elderly people, while an infirmary provides daily care for patients, and first aid for minor injuries. He almost expects to see Tris appear at every turn, in every corner, putting an end to his nightmare, throwing her arms around his neck and laughing. He doesn't recognize any of these places, as the renovation work has completely changed the building, creating new walls, new staircases, and reorganizing the layout.

He's wakened from his daydream by children's cries. Tobias is amused to see children playing. He can't even remember whether he ever had the chance to play when he was a child.

The equipment is still fairly basic, but handymen have made new toys and repaired damaged ones. Everywhere there is color and joy.

"It's a beautiful place. Tris would be proud," Tobias congratulates her. "She liked colors, joy, and action. This place is very human, like her."

In fact, he doesn't really know that. Did Tris like colors, and joy, and action? She was always dressed in the Dauntless uniform, after wearing Abnegation gray for sixteen years. But her heart and spirit were multicolored, that must be enough. And joy… they had had so little time to feel joy together. And action, if a battle, an attack, or an assault can be considered action, then, yes, they had nothing but action. And Tris was wired enough to want action all the time, even more than necessary.

"Her brother helped us a lot, by talking to us about her, and about you," says Donna softly.

"About me?"

"Yes, of course. He emphasized what you meant to Beatrice, what you gave her. He explained how you guided her."

"Tris never took advice, from anybody," replies Tobias with a small smile. "She always did exactly what she wanted to do!"

"I think you're wrong, you underestimate what an example you were for her. Her strength came from you."

With a lump in his throat, Tobias says nothing. Tris lost so many loved ones: her parents, her best friend Will, Marlène, and Lynn; she even felt responsible for all the other deaths. And yet she never gave up, she kept on fighting; she had enough faith and love to keep on hoping. Tobias feels as if he has been down on his knees for two and a half years, unable to bounce back up.

"If that was true, I'd be very proud," he finally manages to say.

"No doubt about it. We're much stronger when we're in love than we're alone. Before I let you go, I'd like to show you something. Follow me."

Bewildered, Tobias looks at the director, and then follows her in silence. Right at the end of a long corridor in the residential wing, with many doors, the director punches in a code that opens a door with a small click.

"Go in," says Donna with a smile.

She steps back to let Tobias enter. It's a very simple, industrial-style apartment, painted white, with three gray sliding doors on the left-hand wall of the main room. Two of them are open. The sun shining on the metal crossbars of the low wide windows forms a hopscotch shadow on the tiled floor.

What Tobias notices most, in the two main rooms, the living room and the bedroom, is his own furniture, the jumble of stuff from his Dauntless apartment.

The large square bed is simply a thick plank placed on top of four boxes. His metal cupboards are there, with his chest of drawers, and his armchair.

"Caleb asked us to keep this apartment for you, and for everything that belonged to you and could be found to be brought here," explains the director. "In the next bedroom," she continues, pointing to the closed door, and glancing at him, "Beatrice's belongings have been brought here too. If you like, you can make your home here."

Tobias looks round in amazement at all the furniture, and all the household objects. He had left all those things behind when he fled the city with Tris. Only the door leading to the room containing her things is closed.

"Why did he do that? To torture me even more?" murmurs Tobias.

The director doesn't dare answer. After a moment of silence, Tobias starts speaking again:

"Thank you, I appreciate it, I don't want to seem ungrateful, but everything here is full of painful memories."

"Don't judge Caleb too harshly, Tobias, he's eaten up with guilt. For the past two years, he's never stopped trying to redeem himself, in memory of Beatrice. I'll leave you alone for now. You can find me in the hall when you're ready. The door will lock itself when you close it."

Tobias is too upset to answer her, and so the director moves away in silence. The young man remains at the bedroom door, gazing into space. Then, without touching anything, he walks round the rooms, identifying the traces of his past life with the Dauntless faction. When his glance falls on the closed door, he tightens the fists, turns round and runs rather than walks out of the apartment. He closes the door, and moves away down the white corridor. His eyes are burning with unshed tears.

He wouldn't have thought that it would still be so difficult, that the pain would still be so fresh in his mind. In the hall, the young man manages to calm down, and says goodbye to the director, ruffling the hair of the little boy who bumps into him as he leaves the orphanage. The visit has brought back memories and emotions that were buried deep inside him.

Breathing deeply, Tobias tries to remain calm. Fresh air does him good. He raises the collar of his duffle coat, and wanders along randomly, getting closer and closer to the railroad. In the distance, the hushed repetitive rattle of the train can be heard, as the train draws nearer. With a smile, he approaches the rails: will he dare to jump on board as he used to do with the Dauntless faction? The train approaches, and he starts to run, hampered by his heavy coat, as the first wagon catches up with him. Speeding up, Tobias jumps on a footboard and opens the door. In one stride, he gets into the car.

Once inside, but out of breath, he sees two passengers, hanging onto the straps, staring at him in awe. Stations have been added along the route: now, people get on at regular stops. He smiles gently, shaking his head a little, thinking how Tris would have laughed at their amazement, how they would have laughed together. He closes the door, recalling that these people don't belong to the intrepid Dauntless faction. He'll wait for the stop nearest to the Divergent Study Center, and then get off there like everyone else: he's already drawn enough attention to himself!

The center was set up in the Erudite headquarters, on Michigan Avenue. A modern two-floor extension has been added. The shiny opaque windows in the new wing mirror the nearby buildings.

The glass doors of the center open in front of Tobias, and a pulse starts pounding in his neck as he enters. The old Erudite headquarters have been altered, but the memory of the immense propaganda poster of Jeanine brings on a wave of nausea. The fury of the Factionless had ground to dust the bowls used for the Choosing Ceremony in front of this very building. He'll never forget seeing the symbol of his victory over destiny go up in smoke that day.

At the reception desk, Tobias says, frowning:

"Morning. Caleb Prior's waiting for me. Can you let him know?"

"Yes, of course." Then, pressing on a button on the intercom, she says: "Caleb, your guest is here."

Caleb joins Tobias in the hall then leads him in silence through a long corridor to the new extension. The medical whiteness of the walls makes the young man feel ill at ease. Everything reminds him of the coldness of the Erudites, focused as they were on keeping each faction pure in its skills. With blue trousers showing under his white labcoat, looking every inch an Erudite. Caleb doesn't appear to have learned anything from the war.

"Caleb, why am I here?" asks Tobias.

"I'll explain everything to you in a minute. We're there. Come on in," answers Caleb in a serious tone, opening the door to what seems to be a laboratory with a laser scan of his eye.

Cautiously, Tobias follows him in. On the immaculate workbenches in the laboratory, high-tech equipment stands waiting. Two researchers wearing glasses work on touch screens. In the center of the room, there is a table with a few chairs round it.

Caleb settles in front of a screen set into the table and requests his colleagues to leave them for a few minutes. The young Dauntless, arms crossed, watches the scientists move away, then stands there, waiting for Caleb to explain this bizarre invitation. His somber gaze and the tilt of his head give nothing away.

"Won't you sit down?" says Caleb. Confronted by Tobias's frowning silence, he hurries into an explanation.

"For two years, a team has been working on an important molecular biology project, based on research from the 20th and 21st century, with the addition of more recent techniques."

"What has that got to do with me? Cut to the chase, Caleb."

"The original goal," continues Caleb, blind to Tobias' impatience, "was to safeguard endangered or extinct plants and animals. It was used many times after the War to restore devastated species, and to ensure self-sufficiency for our city. It's an immense hope for biodiversity and the environment. Enormous progress has been made."

Caleb marks a pause, unsure how best to express himself.

" I've now been asked to collaborate in a more… important project. We received samples, and funding for work of major importance. We've worked tirelessly for two years, day and night, simultaneously, in absolute secrecy. Tobias, we've done it. We have cloned a human being."

"What?" Tobias shouts, striking the flat of his hand on the table in front of him. "After being exploited as guinea-pigs, treated like lab rats, drugged with serums, misled by an entire civilization, you decided to try being sorcerer's apprentices again? You are crazy!"

He stares angrily at Caleb. He feels as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice down his back.

"Tobias, we were trying to continue my parents' work. They died to save the Divergents, and to help humanity mend its flaws. The Divergents represented hope: all those deaths don't have to be for nothing."

"There has been enough suffering," replies Tobias, as he turns to leave, I won't be part of this."

"Tobias! Wait! It's… Beatrice."

With his hand on the door of the laboratory, Tobias turns to stone. He raises his eyes to the sky then looks Caleb in the eye, hoping to have misunderstood.

Caleb can't have said that; it's impossible.

"Repeat that… What did you say?" He stammers, livid.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you, Beatrice's genetic inheritance was unique. All the experiments with the factions were created with one goal, which she almost reached. We didn't want to lose that. We didn't want her death to be in vain!"

Abruptly, Tobias throws himself on Caleb and picks him up like a puppet by the collar of his lab coat. He pushes him back violently against the wall.

"What have you done, Caleb?" Tobias shouts.

"Let me go, Tobias! Let me continue!"

Tobias' dark blue eyes, obscured by anger, stare into Caleb's. Caleb, barely able to breathe, tries again and again to push him away.

"Please, Tobias, let me show you, we need you now! Please! Release me!" stutters Caleb, trying to loosen Tobias' hold.

Tobias suddenly lets go and Caleb sinks down, coughing, with his hands on his knees. Tobias, incredulous, haggard, stares relentlessly as Caleb straightens up, a few inches from him, his fists held down tight against his body, his knuckles white with strain. The values of the factions that he has always sought to defend are all that keep him from cold-blooded murder.

Caleb asks him:

"Are you OK now? Do you want to follow me or not?"

"If I don't like what I see, I'll kill you, Caleb."

Beatrice's brother slips to the side to escape from Tobias, who follows him with a deadly glare, and moves towards a door opposite the entrance to the laboratory, at the far end of the room. The biometric lock changes to green, and the door slides open. The white walls seem to him as black as the inside of the closet where his father would lock him up him when he was a child, for the slightest error. Tobias hesitates, feeling lost, and devastated by the whirling memories brought back by Caleb's revelation.

Caleb patiently waits in the corridor, with his head down, until his sister's former boyfriend makes up his mind. Tobias moves towards him, still hesitating and on the defensive.

The corridor is dark, not very long, marked out by blue fluorescent tubes along the edges of the ceilings, like those that barely lit the blind corridors of the Dauntless hallways. At the end of the corridor, a wall of translucent safety glass protects the entrance to another huge room, with no lighting. Caleb uses a code to open the glass wall, and turns towards Tobias:

"Come on in."

The young man draws closer, with slow, hesitant steps, his eyes just about coming out of their sockets, his countenance simultaneously falling. In a large, transparent oval vat with thick glass walls, filled with translucent liquid, a few centimeters in front of him, in the near darkness, he can just make out a floating human form. At least ten electrodes attached to its body connect the creature to the most complex data-processing unit the young man has ever seen. Tubes and catheters enter and leave the body in several places. A few dim lamps project a reddish gleam over the aquarium. Facing the vat, Tobias stifles a guttural cry and falls to his knees.

Deep in the murky depths of this biological liquid, a young woman remarkably similar to Tris seems to sleep peacefully, animated with only a few involuntary movements. He can vaguely make out her features: the well-drawn eyebrows, the pointed nose, fleshy lips, high cheekbones. Long dark hair floats gently around her face, barely moving to invisible currents in the liquid. The body is thin, almost skinny, and floats suspended midway between the surface and the bottom of the tank. He places his hands on the pane to support his face, and closes his eyes. Tears roll down his cheeks, and he can't stop them.

"What is that, Caleb?" Tobias whispers almost inaudibly, his eyes and voice misting with emotion.

"The Bureau secretly kept the DNA and cells of Beatrice and of our mother." explains Caleb. "It was their most successful project. This young woman is an exact copy of Beatrice, as identical twins are, but obtained by reproductive cloning. We proceeded by transferring the nucleus of her adult cells. The embryo underwent months of accelerated development, as a fetus and then as a new-born baby, in a biological bath almost identical to human amniotic liquid. The umbilical cord was connected to a pump injecting nutrients, like a placenta, the blood was purified, and all the needs of the fetus were met, just as in the human gestation process. It has thus been possible to recover absolutely all the biological characteristics of Beatrice at the time when her DNA was harvested, shortly before she was killed. This is her twin."

"Is it… human? Alive? Is it… Tris?" Tobias can barely speak.

"Biologically, it's a human body like any other, with the same functions, and the same weaknesses. Yes, she is alive, for the moment like a foetus: her brain's functioning and her heart's beating. Her vital functions are those of a young adult of her age. Her skeleton and her muscles need to be reinforced, just like those of an astronaut after spending a long time in space, but no worse than that. Her muscles are stimulated by electrodes to prepare her to leave the tank."

With a serious face, Caleb marks a pause.

"But she isn't really Beatrice." he continues. "Her brain doesn't have either the memories, or the history my sister had. She is her own unique person."

"Did you create a human vegetable for fun? Or to deliver it to the Bureau like a lab rat?" asks Tobias harshly.

"Don't shout Tobias; she can hear everything we say, as a foetus would! No, not at all. She has all Beatrice's genes, and her brain is able to learn with the same capacities, in the same way, and possibly even better. We are giving her all the knowledge that Beatrice could have acquired. We started at zero, with language, and all that can be learned by memorizing. Everything is computer-coded, and transmitted to her at an intensive pace, while respecting her biological needs, tiredness, rest, like any other human being."

"How do you know that she has learned all that?" Tobias objects sharply in a low voice, without being able to tear his eyes away from the floating body.

"I'm not a biologist, but I can tell you that her brain reacts normally; the zones stimulated by the training are the correct ones, and when already transmitted concepts are sent to her again, her brain recognizes them, meaning that they have been acquired." gently answers Caleb. "Matthew helps us with his research on psychology and memory."

Tobias takes a step back, upset, and nervously runs his hands through his hair. He can't believe what he's seeing and hearing.

"Why?" he worries. "Why experiment again, why her? What comes next?"

"If you could resurrect Louis Pasteur or Martin Luther King, would you?" argues Caleb. "Those men invented drugs that saved millions of lives, or generated revolutionary currents of thought, influencing the whole world. My sister was the genetic hope of humanity. Huge numbers of Divergent subjects were assassinated by Jeanine and…"

"With your complicity!" shouts Tobias.

"I know, I now do everything I can. I am willing to give my life to try to compensate for my past errors…"

"Do you want to use her as a lab rat?" Tobias flares up again.

"No, not at all. Just to prolong this hope, to give humanity a chance, through her, to improve. I know that Beatrice would have done everything to test this. David experimented on the Divergent people, the genetically pure beings, to understand their evolution. Beatrice lent herself to that, for the sake of all humanity."

Tobias can barely breathe, suffocated by these revelations. Tris, _his_ Tris, or almost, lies sleeping like a baby, in front of him. His dark blue eyes flicker over the barely visible shape that he so cherished.

"Why is she still in this tank, why is she sleeping? Why can't she breath alone?" questions Tobias.

"She has been voluntarily held asleep for two years, so that her body can absorb the accelerated growth without pain. After we took her off the anaesthetic, we don't exactly know why she hasn't wakened. During the growth period, she reacted like a foetus in utero. For several months, her evolution has been slowing down. She's almost at a normal level for her age now, i.e. the same as Beatrice's at the time the sample was harvested. The transition towards awakening seems to be underway, as we can see from her brain activity, but we don't know when it will happen. She's cared for twenty-four hours a day."

Tobias raises the head towards the surveillance cameras, and the monitors recording all her vital functions.

"If this clone is Tris, with her intellect and her heart, do you believe that she likes being scanned in this indecent way?" he says accusingly. "And Tris didn't like water; one of her worst fears was drowning or being smothered in a jar full of water! If this clone thinks like that, it will probably die of fright!"

Caleb can't hold back a faint smile.

"Let's leave, Tobias, if you agree. We try to limit intrusions which can induce confusion or deteriorate her vital functions."

Tobias gazes intensely at the floating figure, and then follows Caleb as he moves towards the exit, still keeping his eyes on the "mermaid". Caleb adds:

"You are already protecting her… You're right. We'll respect her privacy, and see what we can do to extract her from the aqueous environment. That's why we need you now. The biologists are at the end of the process. All that I could do as her brother has been done. I was separated from Beatrice after the Choosing Ceremony. We wish to transmit to her all that you and Beatrice shared at Dauntless: it's part of her history too. We need to transfer all that my sister learned at your side. Your history and your skill in data processing would be invaluable for us."

The two men return to the first room. Tobias lowers himself onto a chair, elbows on the table, his head in his hands. Beatrice's brother also sits down and continues:

"Tobias, you must be aware that this clone will recognize neither me, nor anybody, she won't have the seventeen years of visual memory of Beatrice's life. Well, maybe not."

"Maybe not? What do you mean?"

"We don't know how a human being can survive without anything in its memory, except for its creative process, and what she has heard since her auditory system began to function. We think that what's been missing, for decades, after widespread animal cloning, to perfectly succeed with human cloning: past history and genealogy. We would like to try to connect with her, as you both connected, you and Beatrice, during Dauntless simulations. Matthew thinks that it's necessary to provide her with memories to help her to develop self-awareness, and to stimulate her desire to live."

"A transfer of memory? Another chemical serum?" the former instructor gets angrier still.

"A data-processing connection, like the Dauntless simulations. I know it's not ideal, but we haven't found any other solution. We think it would be dangerous if she… was born, without any content in her memory, without any basis on which to forge her identity. It's possible that, in the past, this blank mental state led to psychological distress for the subjects in the field tests. They became ill because they felt soulless. We'll be able to use a memory patch, like they did at the Bureau. Matthew has some, but they need to be reconfigured and they're highly protected."

"What's her name?" Tobias cuts, not interested in the scientific details.

Caleb thinks for a few seconds then answers:

"I think she heard us speaking about her being Beatrice's twin. That's what we let her think. But it's true we haven't given her a name."

"Don't you think that's a key stage in her quest for identity?" Tobias bursts out. "You useless bunch of scientists!"

"Thank you for your help," Caleb cuts in as diplomatically as possible, "you're right. We'll give her that information. It's probably better to call her Tris, so that she feels as connected as possible to my sister."

A heavy silence falls. Tobias stares blankly down the corridor to the room where the replica of his beloved Beatrice lies sleeping. He feels completely overwhelmed, and buries his face in his hands.

"Did you think of the consequences?" Tobias asks violently. "People won't understand why we don't help all of them to bring their loved ones back to life!"

"Not everyone had a genetic backup. We do need to think about what we'll say. Two years ago, Many families chose the forgetfulness serum to avoid further suffering. It will be easier to reason with them, but more difficult with those who still remember. It may be necessary to go into details, to explain, or just to leave things alone, and keep Tris's existence a secret for a while. The best explanation is a frozen twin embryo. That process was often used in the past."

Tobias is in state of shock, unable to think.

"In the long term, we thought… of entrusting her to you, if things go well," says Caleb. "You were so close, you and Beatrice. We hope that the same alchemy could help Tris to find her place."

"What? You're crazy Caleb! I'm not a nanny! And I do not want to torture myself every hour of every day, looking at someone who isn't the real Tris! "

"We just think that you're best placed to make her want to live, that's all," pleads Caleb, trying to keep his voice calm and soothing.

"What a surprise! You should have thought about that little detail before! And an arranged marriage too? In the cozy little nest you have got ready for me? What were you thinking?" shouts Tobias. "Tris will be a new person, not Beatrice, and I won't mean anything to her! And she'll be nothing to me! You have no idea what will happen; we might hate each other!"

Tobias groans and lays his head on his folded arms. The inexpressible pain that the death of _his_ Tris had caused him is back again, squeezing his heart in his chest. Hope can be a frightening enemy.

"I get that too," tries to argue Caleb. "I feel already close to… Tris, so I would suffer if she rejected me. And she would have every reason to do so. We try to transmit the love that everyone felt for her, along with everything else, but we don't know how she'll react."

"And you did sort through the information? Eh? Giving her only part of it? The bits that suit you best?" insinuates Tobias, trembling with rage.

"During her development, we provided only undisputed factual information, through virtual reality, whenever possible in auditory format. We didn't want to perturb her growth and development by exposing her to moral or psychological conflicts. But I don't want to hide anything from her. Emotions, even negative ones, are human, and we can't protect her against them. For several weeks, we've been giving her information that is more abstract."

Suddenly, Tobias, unable to take any more, gets up and leaves the laboratory, overcome with anger, pain, and powerlessness. Too many details, questions, emotions, and challenges seethe in his brain. He runs down the corridors, out of the building, and keeps going until his legs will carry him no further.

Exhausted, he realizes that he has reached the old Abnegation quarter. The small gray houses that are still standing are less uniform than before. Personal touches have started to brighten up the area.

Suddenly all the revelations, facts, challenges, and consequences hit him, as they did before, at the Bureau, when they told him about his deficiency. But this isn't about him, it's about Tris, and it's even worse. Tobias collapses on to a patch of grass, out of sight, and cries as he has never cried before, letting go of two and a half years of tears.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

"What do you think, Tobias?"

Johanna waits for a few seconds, looking at the young man lost in thought, who hasn't even heard the question.

"Tobias, you're not with me," insists the manager.

"Sorry? Oh, sorry, Johanna. Yes, it's a good idea."

"Which one?"

"All your ideas are good," he replies with a smile.

"You have no idea what I told you, I think." says Johanna softly.

"Sorry, I was thinking of something else. Yes, I did hear you. I'll contact the other cities, and work on setting up the exchanges you mentioned. Linking computer systems will take a certain amount of time, but it will save us a lot of effort later."

Johanna nods in silence and stares at Tobias.

"Leave the project for now, Tobias. Won't you tell me what's wrong? You have been absent, self-absorbed, maybe even withdrawn for several weeks, ever since you went to visit the orphanage."

He gives her one of his disarming little smiles, which often save him from having to explain anything. But Johanna does not seem sensitive to his charm.

"You're beating yourself up about something, Tobias. You need to talk to someone. What's on your mind?"

"It's Tris," he says, only partly lying.

"No one has forgotten her. You need to cultivate hope rather than regret, Tobias."

"I know, I'm trying to."

"You and Caleb must stick together, and try to move forward," says Johanna. "Have you seen him recently?"

Tobias, arms folded, leaning on the table, looks inquiringly at the woman he's helping, who is in charge of Chicago.

"No. He tried to contact me. But I don't particularly want to spend time with him. Why are you telling me this?"

"Why not? It makes sense to spend time together when you have something in common. You have to forgive and help each other, Tobias."

"He doesn't need me. He has plenty of people around him."

"What about you? Do you? Are they the people you want around you?"

"I told you, I'm trying."

"Whatever," murmurs the brown-skinned woman.

Johanna then pauses, sighs, and concludes:

"I'll let you think over the projects I've shown you. You can tell me which ones you think are doable, at least as far as computing goes, to start with."

Tobias gets up, places an affectionate kiss on Johanna's cheek, and heads for the door.

"Yes, I'll let you know. I'll get in touch with a few people. See you soon."

The door closes, and Johanna shakes her head and sighs.

Tobias goes home. As he opens the door, he sees his mother, wrapped in a large towel, fresh out of the shower.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't expect you so early. I'm going to get dressed," she says.

"No worries, take your time. A shower will probably do me good too." her son replies.

"What do you mean, "it will do you good"? What's up with you, Tobias, you've been looking gloomy for nearly two months now! What's wrong?"

"I'm fine, I just need to think, that's all. Johanna is entrusting me with great responsibilities. I don't know if I can manage to do everything she wants." he says, lying again.

"Tell that to the marines, son."

He smiles.

"Don't worry. I'm a big boy. But I will make you an offer, Mother…"

"Before you do," Evelyn cuts in, "I have great news. I can't wait to tell you."

"Go ahead," says Tobias, in a conciliatory tone.

"I've found a job. I've been contacted to create a training center for adults. Many people lost everything during the civil war, including the memory of the jobs they used to do. Those who have skills will organize workshops for those who want to learn. I still have a lot of contacts among those who were Factionless. We were the kings of resourcefulness. Maybe I can coordinate it all."

"It's a beautiful project. I'm happy for you, but it's strange that Johanna didn't tell me about it."

"It's not yet been discussed that high up. It's a fairly recent charity project. But I'm going to need time, materials, and space. Tobias, I'm going to look for independent accommodation. And give you back your freedom."

The young man looks at his mother, half-wary, half-smiling.

"Tell that to the marines, Mom." retorts Tobias mischievously, copying his mother.

Evelyn smiles, putting her hands around her grown-up son's head.

"You're right," she says, laughing. "It's true that I'm going to work on this project, but maybe I also have a handsome man in mind?"

Tobias smiles. Her mother is beautiful, charismatic, and still young. At barely 40, she can easily attract men.

"Don't bother. Stay here," he told her, looking around him, "most of the things that are here are yours. I'm the one who's going to move."

"Are you sure? It's your home."

"Not really," Tobias contradicts her. "These are just walls. And I've been given the opportunity to move somewhere else. I already know where I'm going. I'll also need to install computers at home to work on a project that Johanna has given me. I don't have enough room here."

"Where are you going?"

"Give me a day or two. As soon as I find a couple of people to help me carry my few things, I'll move them out and let you know," replies Evelyn's son, avoiding a direct answer.

"It bothers me to chase you away like that. Take your time; think things over."

"I've been thinking about it for a while; there is no problem, I assure you. I'll take care of all this tomorrow," says Tobias reassuringly. "I'm going to have a shower."

"As you wish. Tell me now, what where you going to offer me?"

"Nothing important, a job opportunity perhaps, but that's no longer relevant," replies the young man.

Evelyn smiles with a hint of sadness at the handsome, melancholy young man looking at her. His brown hair curls on top, and his eyes seem tired, despite their intensity. She gets on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, and then follows him with her eyes as he walks away towards his room, closed in on himself again.

As soon as her son is out of sight, her face becomes worried. He has been sleeping poorly for weeks now, fidgeting at night, and mumbling incomprehensible words in an anguished tone while sleeping. It's pointless to ask him questions. If Tobias has decided not to tell her about it, he won't. She is therefore not the person he needs to confide in. Finding solitude may allow him to make personal plans and receive visitors to whom he can talk about what is torturing him.

In the bathroom, Tobias lets the water run over his hair for a few minutes, head down, eyes closed. The trickle of water is soothing, like a patient, gentle massage. Evelyn's announcement has relieved him of a problem: he was intending to ask if it would be painful for her if he moved out. With a small smile, he says to himself that she had probably guessed his need, and anticipated his request, tactfully, presenting the request as if it came from her.

As he dries himself, he decides he will contact the director of the orphanage tomorrow to find out if the offer still stands. Perhaps the animation reigning in the building will give him some relief from his obsessive thoughts. Despite his stubborn desire to obscure reality, he will have to face it one day. Johanna is right: as she once said to Beatrice at the Amity farm, being consumed by hatred or fear does not solve problems, nor does it make them disappear.

He is no longer able to concentrate or work efficiently since receiving a message from Caleb, a month and a half ago, which read: "She is awake."


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

The next day, for Tobias to get help, and a vehicle to transport his few belongings, he only had to contact Johanna, and Christina, at the redeployment office where she works. The transfer is scheduled for the following day.

He has an appointment with Donna, the director of the orphanage. When he enters the building, she greets him with a smile.

"I'm glad to see you, Tobias, come on in. I made coffee, real coffee. Do you like it?"

"Real coffee? I don't know. Yes, please."

She guides her guest to the rest room, which contains a table, a few chairs, and a kettle. Everywhere, colorful drawings brighten up entire stretches of the walls. Other walls are decorated with works by adult artists: paintings, hangings, and creations that all bear witness to the dawn of hope and the rebirth of the city.

Donna gives Tobias a cup and pours water over the coffee. Immediately, a warm fragrant scent spreads through the room.

"Did you know that we use the smell of coffee to soothe people who suffer from stress?" remarks the director.

"No." he replies with a smile, "Is it effective?"

"Yes, really, the smell of coffee is relaxing. It delights the senses in the morning, and we even use it on babies who have trouble calming down. They don't drink it, of course, but even the smell works miracles!"

"I'll give this natural therapy a try!" Tobias agrees, smiling. He sips the drink, and pronounces his verdict: "It's truly delicious! Better than the chicory we called 'coffee', which was all we had until now!"

"I'm glad you like it! So, Tobias, I hope you've come to tell me that you've reconsidered my offer?" Donna asks, sipping her hot drink.

Quietly, the ex-Dauntless inhales the fragrant steam rising gracefully from his cup. Coffee has been readily available in Chicago for several months, as self-sufficiency has faded from grace, even though it still remains the main means of subsistence. But many citizens have not yet tasted coffee, as change comes slowly to homes focused on their newfound freedom and on rebuilding family groups torn apart by the faction system, which has now been abolished.

"If you'll have me. My mother needs her independence, and it's time for me to cut the cord again." says Tobias.

"And you, what do you need?"

"To drive out my demons, I suppose," murmurs the young man as if to himself, his gaze lost in the depths of his cup.

Then, staring at the director again, he adds with an apologetic smile:

"I also need a quiet space to myself, for work. Johanna wants me to be full of Abnegation with my fellow citizens, yet remain Dauntless in my personal life. What can I do in exchange for this welcome?"

"That won't be difficult: we have so many needs in various fields, and you know how to do so many things. Computer help, and even sports coaching for children, I'm sure."

"That can easily be arranged," says Tobias, gratefully.

"The kids will love you!" marvels Donna, her hands clasped together.

"I love kids too. When I sought refuge at the Amity farm, I had a lot of spending time with them. Their communicative _joie de vivre_ was a breath of fresh air for all of us," answers Tobias, with a hint of nostalgia in his voice.

"They will bring you the same happiness today. I think you need them, my dear boy, as much as they need you as a guide and model."

Tobias smiles modestly at her.

"I don't have much stuff. I'll bring it along tomorrow. However, I will also need some computer equipment. I'll work here part of the time."

"This is your home, so you can do as you please."

They then spend a few minutes discussing building security rules, access codes, and daily life. Then the young man says goodbye and leaves, without being at all certain of having made the right choice, or of being able to do what he has promised. But if Tris had taught him anything to remember and learn from every day, it's that you must never give up, and even if you start from scratch, you can work miracles with persistence, kindness, and... daring.

The following evening, Christina has roped in a colleague, and Johanna sends a former Amity member, in her car. They turn up at Tobias' house on the east side of the river. In a few minutes, his meager belongings -clothes, some professional equipment, and his precious blue glass trinket, his waterfall- are loaded.

Evelyn hugs her son. Tobias, with his hands at his mother's waist, accepts the embrace, places a kiss on her cheek, and says to her with a smile:

"See you soon, I'm not going far."

"You'll let me know?"

"Yes, as soon as I've moved in, I'll call you by video, and you can come round to see me, if you want. And if you need anything, just say so."

"Thanks. Tobias, I love you so much," she murmurs as she lets go of her son.

The young man smiles at her. He had never really managed to accept these declarations of maternal love. The first person he remembers expressing love to him was Tris. These words have become, and have remained her property, her privilege. As he promised himself, he has set aside the old resentment against his mother, and the things that kept them apart. Accepting her return, being close to her, were already giant steps for him. Some wounds refuse to heal.

He grabs the last two bags of clothes, packed and ready to go, and leaves the apartment, with more relief than he would have thought. One more step has just been taken on the road to healing: this time, he is not being abandoned; it is he who leaves, without hatred, without violence, and without regret.

In the orphanage, his few crates loaded on a trolley, Tobias guides his friends to his new apartment. He opens the door and immediately smells the fragrant scent of coffee. He smiles, Donna has come by with hot coffee to greet him.

"It's as miserable as you are, here!" exclaims Christina, entering her friend's apartment, with her usual brutal honesty.

"Ever the diplomat," retorts her former instructor, smiling.

"Well just look around you: white on the walls, black on you, just like Candor!"

"I just got here; give me time," laughs Tobias. "Here's something blue to start with," he says, putting his favorite trinket on the table.

"Great, it looks like an amusement park now!" comments Christina, sarcastically.

In two steps, the athletic young man grabs her, and tosses her over his shoulder. The young black woman screams with laughter, hammering his back with her fists. So the young man throws the pretty brunette onto the big bed as easily as he would have blown away a wisp of straw. Breathless, Christina laughs until she chokes.

"Who are you?" she giggles. "What have you done with my undead friend?"

"I'm not undead." retorts Tobias, glaring at his friend.

She really has the gift of making him lose his cool.

"Ah! He's back again!" she insists, in a sardonic voice.

"You are impossible!" shouts Tobias.

Christina laughs, and Tobias cannot stay serious. In a way, he is grateful to the sparkling former Dauntless; she is full of life, an example to follow. After all, she too has suffered and mourned.

Two round trips later, the computer equipment provided by Johanna is set up on a long console under the windows.

"Can we help you connect all this?" asks Christina.

"No, thanks. It will keep me busy tonight. Come on, I'll show you around the orphanage and introduce you to Donna, the manager. If you come to visit me, you will have to show your credentials, for security requirements."

The small cheerful group goes through the building again under the astonished eyes of a few elderly people who are not used to all this noise. Some children, attracted by the bustle, come running to join them. The director is waiting for them in the entrance hall; she has heard them coming from afar...

The thundering assembly follows her into her office. Everyone is attracted to the multicolored drawings on the back wall, and of course by the portrait of Beatrice, on the wall next to the window. Tobias remains standing in front of the desk, avoiding looking to his left, chatting aimlessly with the director. Christina nudges him in the ribs.

"What?" he says, pushing her away.

"Don't play the innocent with me." says Christina.

"Leave me alone, Christina, please." growls Tobias.

"Healing doesn't take the same amount of time for everyone, you know." says Donna, smiling. "I have made a note that you are going to draw all the young people here, and I am delighted. I've told the kids about sport, and they can't wait."

"What are you going to do?" asks Christina.

"Host some sports activities for the people here," explains the new resident of the complex.

"Great, I'll come here to train; we get rusty behind a desk!" says Christina with enthusiasm.

"It is a good idea to open this place to all; it will allow us to get more help, and hope that the Bureau may even give us a bigger grant," muses the director aloud.

"Come on," shouts Tobias to his companions, "we've made enough mess in the office, we're going out."

The troop greets Donna, making their way through the group of kids who have gathered in front of the door, driven by curiosity, and heading for the exit. At the door, Tobias thanks his friends for their help, and pretends to tidy up so as not to join them for an outing. He has a war to fight against his memories, alone.

The young man returns to his apartment and sits on the bed, leaning forward, forearms resting on his knees. He is troubled. Each glance lands on a piece of furniture, which is more than furniture: each piece is a memory. Almost all of them take him back to Tris. He has not opened the door to the next room. But he has made his first choice: to accept the memories rather than flee them, by moving here where the accessories from his Dauntless past have been installed.

In order not to brood over somber ideas, he starts to install all his computer equipment. The immensity of networks and possibilities offers him a way out, an escape route to outside, the breathing space that no longer exists within him. Computing is his antidepressant. It can turns his thoughts from past to future. But here, even the computer seems poisoned to him: a mixture of past and future that he's not sure how to manage. It remains to be determined whether he will be able to open the videos that Caleb has been sending him for a month and a half, on the unprecedented birth and early life of Beatrice's cloned twin sister.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Tobias turns on the system and sits down in front of the row of computers. Each screen seems to grimace at him. After a few taps on the transparent glass screens, the first video is loaded. One more gesture and it will begin. With his elbows on the gray console, and his hands on his cheeks, he can feel his heart pounding in his chest. His fingers drum nervously on his cheekbones. He knows that once he starts, he won't be able to stop, or refuse to get involved in this Tris's life.

_His _Tris would have rushed straight on, without asking questions, whether out of madness, or faith, or both. Always active, hopeful, generous. He can see her running after the train taking her friends to the war game, at the end of the first phase of her initiation: in pain, covered in bruises, but determined, her hair waving in the wind. He had never found her more beautiful.

He never thought he could feel so much love.

His finger touches the screen and the first video starts.

He recognizes the large room in which the clone was resting when he discovered it, floating in a large tank of synthetic amniotic liquid. But now the aquarium has disappeared, the girl is sleeping on a hospital bed, her head resting on a big pillow. Tobias gapes at her, with his eyes fixed on the face that he watched so often as she slept near to him, less than three years ago. The face is the same as the one in his memory, perhaps slightly younger.

Caleb, in a dormer window, comments on the images:

"We informed Tris of her identity during her sleep, explaining our decision, and presenting it as a choice based on emotion. Her brain reacts to her first name, so we think she has accepted it. She's also been informed of her origins and of how she was brought to life.

A liquid laden with perfluorocarbons was introduced into her lungs, providing her at the post-fetal stage with an intensive supply of oxygen, which helped to shorten the time needed for her growth and evolution. The correct biological mechanisms were applied, first those for the accelerated growth of children between birth and age 4, then those for young girls at puberty.

Tris has been lying down since the beginning of her existence, and therefore not subject to gravity as much as if she had been standing, so she has turned out to be taller than Beatrice was. This phenomenon has been accentuated by the very long period of sleep into which she was plunged, to stimulate the production of growth hormones. However, she could lose a few centimeters after a few months of standing.

An analgesic treatment was given to her to avoid any pain due to this very rapid growth spurt. Her bones are of normal density compared to those of a seventeen-year-old girl. Throughout her growth, her calcium intake was significant, and the production of melatonin was stimulated in order to strengthen her skeleton.

She has benefited from several months of exercises in the form of electro-simulation in order to avoid muscular atrophy. Since she has been out of the tank, daily physiotherapy exercises have been added, commented, and explained. They are intended to tone the supporting muscles, and those involved in grasping, in particular."

Illustrating Caleb's explanations, photos of the exercises and treatments are shown on the video. Tris is dressed in comfortably fitting clothes, changed every day by an assistant, who treats her like a normal patient, as Tobias can see on the video, starting with a polite hello, then comments on the news, details about her outfit, and her program for the day.

Tobias, with his elbows on the table, and his chin resting on his clasped hands, gazes incredulously at the photos.

"We have given Tris the academic and social knowledge of a young girl of seventeen." Caleb continues. "Before that, we carried out an apprenticeship that included the basics of language, culture, and the average education level of the young people in our society. However, upon awakening, she could suffer from dysphonia or akinetic mutism. Speech therapy is planned. She has already received information relating to her health and the planned follow-up. The level of light in the recovery room is gradually raised in order to accustom her eyes through her eyelids, with a normal daily cycle. The system is set to lower the light as soon as she opens the eyes, so as not to dazzle her. Tris' hearing is particularly well developed, like that of a blind person whose other senses are heightened. She receives information about daily life, and books on various subjects are read to her.

For several weeks, we have been working to provide her with some family history and some social history. Using the methods used by the ex-Dauntless during the simulation exercises, we established a connection between my memories and Tris's mind. The idea is to give her a glimpse of what sight will allow her to discover: notions of color, space, distance, etc.

After enough information was collected, taking into account the normal development of our patient, Tris was taken out of the amniotic bath. Her lungs were emptied of the fluid they contained, by pumping … "

Suddenly, a researcher bursts into the recovery room, interrupting Caleb's presentation.

"Caleb! Her vital signs have changed! I think she's about to wake up!"

Caleb springs up from his seat, and stops the video recording.

Tobias emerges from his hypnotic torpor, getting up slowly from his seat, leaning on his hands, head down, eyes closed, struck dumb.

The tension of all these revelations is too great for the young man to bear. He paces in his apartment to give himself time. Twenty minutes after the alarming message he sent her, Christina knocks on the door of his apartment. He opens up to the worried face of his friend:

"What's going on, Four?"

"Come in, and see for yourself." Tobias replies nervously, closing the door.

He sits down and considers for a few seconds how to present things to her. Fingers joined, forearms on the armrests, he swivels in his chair from right to left, and back cheek muscles twitch at regular intervals, and Christina knows what that reaction means. Tobias may just be upset, or something even more serious has happened. Given his Dauntless talents, and his ability to deal with stress, she fears the worst.

"Are you going to tell me what's happened?" asks Christina, impatiently.

She watches her friend. His complexion is pale and blotchy, with dark circles round his eyes.

"You should sit down," he says, gesturing to the chair. "The naked truth, huh? Is that what you want? "

"You're scaring me, Four!" she says, sitting down.

"Rightly so. It's Caleb, together with a group of scientists. They have…"

Tobias pauses, his throat tight, then drops his bombshell:

"They've cloned Tris."

Christina springs from the chair like a jack-in-the-box, shouting:

"What? You're crazy!"

"Look, you'll see." groans Tobias weakly.

The young man presses the key that launched the first video, and turns to his friend. The instructor's former recruit turns her head towards the screen, and discovers Tris's clone, lying silently on the bed, with an inset of Caleb recording his report. The photos pass before the eyes of Christina, who is struck dumb. At the bottom of the screen is the date of the recording, with a timer. Her legs cannot support her, so she sits down, as if in slow motion, without taking her eyes off the screen.

"It's impossible…" she whispers, almost inaudibly. "Four, what is this monster?"

"According to them, a human being ... like you and me, a Tris lookalike."

"They're tricking you again! You aren't going to accept it, are you?" shouts the young woman.

"Christina, I saw her."

"Huh? When?" she says, jumping up again.

"Two months ago. Caleb took me to the center. I saw her in a vegetative state."

"Two months? You've known for two months, and you told me nothing? Are you kidding me?"

His face distorted by suffering, Tobias jumps up, faces her, and finally loses control.

"Do you think it's easy? Was I happy to learn that? I couldn't believe it! Do you realize what it did to me?" he says, pointing to the screen.

Christina sits down, crushed by the painful rage of her friend, and continues to watch the video, speechless. Tobias continues more gently:

"I can't sleep any more. I almost hoped that they would not finish their experiment."

"Why didn't you tell me?" moans Christina, with tears in her eyes.

"If they hadn't been successful, what good would it have done to hurt you too? You can see what it did to me." he says.

"And, they ... they succeeded?"

"Caleb told me she has been awake for over a month."

"It's impossible," Christina whispers to herself, and her voice is clouded.

"He sent me videos. I couldn't find the strength to watch them before tonight. And I couldn't go beyond the first one, the one on the screen."

"Haven't you seen the rest?" asks the girl.

Tobias shakes his head.

"No. I ... I couldn't. I don't even know if I want to. I needed to share this, it's ... too heavy for me to bear alone."

"Tell me about it! I don't know whether it's wonderful or awful!"

"Me neither. I don't want to relive ... the worst moments. Not again."

For a few minutes, Christina continues to watch the video. Tobias, with his back to the screen, doesn't look, but leans forward, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He listens, with closed eyes, to Caleb summing up the incredible news. Caleb's voice seems to fill the room, as if he had been drugged. Maybe he misunderstood? Does he actually say that it didn't work? But no, his words don't change, and Tobias hears for the second time something that he could never have imagined. In a way, Tris has returned.

The video ends when Caleb is interrupted abruptly. Christina turns to a dazed Tobias.

"Is that all?" she wonders.

"I don't know, I haven't looked at the rest," replies her friend, frowning.

"Put it on."

"Don't know if I can."

Christina gets up from the chair and, in two strides, stands in front of her friend, pulls him out of his stupor, pushing his shoulders back on the chair. The young woman's face takes on the warlike expression of the Dauntless in their ring.

"Too late to go back!" insists Christina.

"I didn't ask for anything. I have no part in this; Caleb imposed it on me, supposedly because he needs me." Tobias replies, fixing her with a somber look.

"How come he 'needs you'?"

"Caleb has transmitted to… this clone, by simulation, all the memories he has in common with Beatrice: from childhood to the Choosing Ceremony. But he has almost no memories to give her after she joined the Dauntless."

"And you have everything!"

"Yes."

Christina lowers her head for a second, then argues:

"I have my memories too. You weren't always with us during the initiation period."

"Would you like to contribute to ... that?" shouts Tobias, pointing to the screen.

"Don't you want to? Four! Think for a second! It's too late; you'll never forget Tris or this clone. You'll be stuck with it until the end of your life! What would Tris have done? What did she do when she was faced with a choice without knowing what awaited her, what awaited us all?

"What choice?" moans Tobias.

"The box! She didn't know what would be inside, or even if it was going to kill her, as it had already killed many Divergents! She had a choice between running away and trying to do it. But she went there anyway, in hope. And she was right!"

"And she's dead!" shouts Tobias, rising suddenly, pushing at Christina.

"And she changed the future for thousands of human beings, and set us free." continues the young Dauntless gently.

"I don't care! She's no longer here, and I miss her, every minute of every day! I would rather still be a prisoner of the factions, among the Dauntless, with her by my side. What good is all this without her?

And Beatrice's boyfriend walks around the room. Christina looks at him, with tears in her eyes.

"Everyone misses her, Four. And that," she says, pointing to the screen, "means hope, a chance that she would have taken without even thinking about it for a second."

Tobias gives her a dark look, then becomes tearful, torn between anger, despair, and ... he's not sure what else. He runs his hands through his short brown hair, as he wanders randomly around the room.

"You didn't bring me over to talk you out of getting involved in this, Four. I'm sure you asked me to come so that I can help you do it. I'm right, aren't I? "

Christina and her unbearable truths, with no filter! The powerful instructor punches the back of his chair, which spins away from him. He stops the chair and lets himself fall down onto it, running his hands over his face.

"I don't know what to do," he groans.

"Let's watch the rest, for now. Together. OK? You made me come here for that. We'll see what to do later. Come on, switch it on."

Tobias scrutinizes her, frowning, halfway between distress and anger, without a word. Then he sighs, closes his eyes, swivels his chair round to face the computer. It annoys him, but the former Candor girl is not wrong. Tris would have persevered to the end, whatever the consequences. Christina pushes her chair towards the console to get closer and settles there.

"Go on, Four," she urges him firmly, putting a reassuring hand on his arm.

In the experimental laboratory, Tris, perched on her bed, has her eyes open, and her head turned towards a young caregiver, a brunette with medium long smooth hair, who holds her hand in both of hers. She smiles at her.

She smiles at her!

Together, Christina and Tobias let out an exclamation of surprise.

Tris has an oxygen mask over her nose, and the caregiver speaks to her calmly, smiling. Caleb appears inset on the screen.

"Tris is awake. We are very, very happy. It was not a tricky operation, removing the oxygen-laden water from her lungs. She coughed a lot, even though we had sedated her in a sort of artificial coma to leave her brain at rest, to allow it to focus on other vital functions. The operation was very tiring, and she didn't really react to any stimuli for more than forty-eight hours. We continued to speak to her, providing her with spatial and temporal references, and describing all our interventions, to connect her with her own life. Then we gradually decreased the sedatives, when all the indicators were on green.

Her hair continued to grow well for over a month. We think that the absence of friction avoided the natural destruction of body hair. Now the hair on her arms and legs is getting lighter, and is barely visible. "

"They called her Tris?" Christina stammers.

"Yes, Caleb told me when I went there. They wanted to encourage her sense of family and a kind of twinning with Beatrice."

"In order to avoid a violent emotional reaction, there was only one caregiver looking after her during the awakening period. Sandra has a soft and reassuring voice, which was familiar to Tris. She talked to her a lot, explaining everything she needed to know for everyday life. Between girls, it's easier.

We were very happy because Tris didn't seem to be afraid when she woke up. She was trying to follow Sandra with her eyes as she moved. Her eyesight was poor, but it got better day by day, as we adapted the light in the room to what she could bear without pain or discomfort.

The physiotherapist gave Sandra instructions, so that she could make Tris do as much exercise as she could bear, to stimulate her muscles.

Sandra stimulated Tris, talked to her, and let her rest when her eyes showed signs of fatigue. We gave her a rhythm equivalent to that of a normal day. After a few days, Tris started to smile, which was a huge relief, and we hope that she didn't suffer physically or mentally. Her facial muscles work, thanks to physiotherapy, and massages by Sandra. Her smile was therefore not simply a reflex."

In the armchairs, Tobias and Christina witness the resurrection of their beloved friend. The photos show Sandra helping her during the exercise sessions.

"Tris was first fed by infusion, then gradually by mouth. We waited for her to gain muscle tone before allowing her to get out of bed, and sit in a chair."

A mini-video shows Tris being carried by two women and then placed in an armchair. The camera meets her attentive gaze, as she focuses on the activity. Her progress in just a few days is astounding.

"Tris has incredible will-power." Caleb continues. "We explained to her from the start that she would find it difficult to speak, her vocal cords need rehabilitation after… a lifetime of immobility. We began with singing, because it's easier to hum than to produce words. Sandra invited Tris to copy her. In a few days, Tris could imitate her, making sounds that were more and more precise and clear. We treated her throat because it seemed painful. She's making an enormous effort to learn, and readily accepts all the exercises we propose. Images fascinate her. After all that time in the dark, visual transmissions really enchant her. She devours videos with her eyes."

"Four, it's… amazing! Did you see that?"

Tobias, strangled with emotion, struggles to say something articulate.

"Of course ... Christina, keep in mind that it's not Tris, well, not _our _Tris. It's someone else. Caleb told me so. And also that she wouldn't recognize us since she was born without any memories, and without a past."

"Yeah, well, it's crazy… It's not a monster, it's… a woman! Put it back on! I still can't believe it!"

"It's late. Don't don't want to sleep a little?"

"Sleep? Four, are you mad? We'll sleep tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow! She was asleep for two years!" she argues, pointing to the screen. "Show us the rest!"

Tobias produces a shy smile, the first in weeks, or so it seems to him. Christina's good nature is communicative. He's glad that she's there. Despite the painful memories that invade his head, he also finds himself thinking of the good times. The smile of _his _Tris, almost the same as that of her twin, makes him feel a little braver.

"It's good that you're here, Christina."

"Tell me about it! I wouldn't have missed this for the world!"

Tobias launches the third video he has received, the penultimate one. It shows Tris, eyes closed, sitting in a comfortable swivel armchair, dressed in black pants and a white blouse with short sleeves. She's sitting right next to Caleb, linked by electrodes fixed to their temples. In an inset, Caleb gives a commentary.

"For the past week, Sandra has gradually introduced me to Tris. She has made impressive progress in expression. She speaks almost normally: she's been training hard, to the point that we have to ask her to rest her voice. Her thirst for learning is inexhaustible. She also has unwavering optimism. She seems to trust us.

I spoke to her, explaining who I was, the history of our family, which is also hers. Don't worry, Tobias, I haven't forgotten or hidden anything. So as not to hide anything from you, you should know that she cried. Tears intrigued her a lot. She asked what they were for, and I was sorry to answer her! She's as curious as Beatrice was…

In these images, we can see Tris, who agreed to submit to the simulation intended to transmit to her the memories I shared with Beatrice. We made sure that she understood the objective and gave informed consent. She was very agitated during the simulation. The violence of what we suffered during the civil war upset her, even if she had already been told about it."

Christina and Tobias, who are already tense, freeze up a little more at this announcement. Neither of them has moved at all since the start of the video. But they realize that the simulation has given Tris memories of people who had simply been names until then, including both Tobias and Christina. Whether they like it or not, they are now involved in Tris's life.

"The simulation deepened her understanding of these events. She asked a lot of questions afterwards about all the faces she had seen. She said she was happy to see what our parents looked like in everyday life.

She also agreed to answer a few of Matthew's questions. His work on memory can help Tris sort through the information she receives and interpret it, as well as helping his study. They saw each other a few times. He finds her amazing. Her mind structures information well. She doesn't confuse data or people, and retains any temporal benchmarks she is given. She's very frank. As she has few sociological references, she doesn't see why she should avoid certain subjects, so she often makes us laugh. She would have been Candor, for sure."

"Great, I like her! Four, did you see that? It's ... it's completely crazy!" exclaims Christina, jostling him in his seat.

Shaking his head like a disjointed puppet, after Christina's push, Tobias remains silent, his face almost impassive. On the screen, Tris smiles at the camera Matthew shows her. She seems so young, less mature than the war had forced Beatrice to be. The resemblance is so striking that Tobias wouldn't have been able to tell them apart, except for the length of their hair, and the difference in musculature. Searching her friend's face, Christina says softly:

"Are you in shock, Four?"

"I don't really know."

"I suspect you are. Tell me how you feel, if you want to."

"I don't know. I'm so afraid of being disappointed. I'm wary by nature."

"We have to help them; we have to help Caleb, Four. What would our Tris have said if we told her that she had a sister? You know her dedication, and her perseverance."

"Yeah, about Caleb … What is his goal, basically? To be forgiven?"

"It doesn't matter, Four, that is no longer the subject. It's not for him that we have to get involved, but for Tris, for both of them, because this girl is alive, and she's with us now. She didn't ask to be here, and that she shouldn't be made to pay for what Caleb did. And you mustn't blame her for being here now that our Tris is gone."

"I know, but ... I don't know how I'm going to be able to behave towards a Tris who is not the one I knew."

"Look at her: she's trying hard to learn, so we'll just do the same. I know how hard it will be for you, but maybe it will also ease your pain"

Tobias remains silent.

"What has drawn our attention, biologically, is the evolution of her cells. We were watching for signs of premature aging, but there aren't any so far. We are confident in the future, although we cannot be absolutely certain.

Tris had a fever yesterday. In fact, she's been sick for two days. It looks like she has a cold or maybe the flu. We are monitoring her immune system. The least we can say is that she doesn't like being sick. For the first time since ... the beginning, she's occasionally in a bad mood, especially when she has to blow her nose or take medication. Persevering, but not very patient. We have lightened her daily program to allow her to rest, and she gets bored!"

"Exactly like Tris!" laughs Christina. "She couldn't stay still!"

Tobias can't help but agree with his friend. He nods knowingly, and raises his eyebrows.

"There, you can see by the photos that she's progressing in muscle rehabilitation. She can stand and walk for a few minutes. She's very happy to leave the room that has been her daily life for a very long time, all alone. We take her out in an wheelchair, of course, but she's happily discovering autonomy. Ah, you have to be careful: she is affected by everything! She feels the need to develop her senses. She's particularly sensitive to touch and hearing. She gets to know things, much as babies do, by touching everything. She has now discovered water, with all the scents associated with a shower. We have to limit her access, or she would spend hours there. She says she likes the feel of water flowing over her, and she can't wait for rain!"

"Wow! That was less than two weeks ago!" ponders Christina. "Her head must feel stuffed with everything she has learned in such a short time!"

"If she's like... Beatrice, she's relentlessly persistent, and won't stop until she reaches her goal," adds Tobias.

Suggesting that Tris has a goal is already giving her life, giving her reason to exist, and a humanity that they were not sure of granting her a few minutes ago. But they can't go back now. The two friends look over the rest of the photos, showing Tris exercising, and even wrapped in a bath towel before her shower, all smiles. And then the video stops.

Christina looks at Tobias with a smile:

"We have to learn to think of Tris as Beatrice's sister, that's what she is, in fact. Her twin sister. Beatrice could have had one. How would you have dealt with that?"

"I already find it hard to be with Caleb because of their slight resemblance." hesitates Tobias.

"You find it hard to put up with Caleb particularly because you hold him responsible for Tris' death. This Tris is alive. Don't you think we should welcome her, like a miracle?"

"We have no idea of the welcome she will give us. She may not have Beatrice's character or make the same choices. Everything that shapes your character from your mother's womb (which is something a clone doesn't experience): going through school, socialization, and History, with a capital H."

"You can share with her a part of your Tris's history, to help her build herselg a family," suggests Christina.

"I don't necessarily want her to see all that's stored inside my head. How do you know what she would do with it?" says Tobias, doubtfully.

The young woman mocks him a little.

"That's not the problem. Do you have more personal memories than everyone else?"

"Don't laugh, Christina. It's not funny at all."

"No, I know. But that's life, and this Tris needs to learn everything about those around her. I want to get to know her and help her. And you too."

"It's like turning a knife in the wound."

"Maybe. At the beginning, yes, maybe. But it might also help us, in turn, to forgive the universe for taking away her sister"

Tobias looks at Christina, frowning. They might as well see it all. He turns to the computer and plays the latest video.

"Tris is fine. She still has a lot to learn, but no more than someone who comes to Chicago having only heard tell of the events of the past few years. She's interested in the factions, and seeks to understand things. She no longer spends all her time here. Sandra often takes her home, for a day or more. Tris only comes back here for monitoring and check-ups, which are still necessary, and to describe to us everything she feels. We also monitor her eyesight, which is improving regularly.

Tris asked if she could make a recording of herself, so she's going to take over now."

Tobias and Christina both hold their breath at this announcement.

The video shows Caleb getting up, giving Tris his seat, and then sitting down next to her.

"You can talk now, Tris. It's still recording." says Caleb to her. The girl asks him a little awkwardly: "What should I say? It is strange to speak to a camera that does not answer me."

The same voice. Tobias feels tears come to his eyes. He bites his cheek to keep control of himself. But his cheek muscles twitch. Christina realizes that he has never been able to control that reflex, which almost cost him his life in the past.

"Won't answer." corrects Caleb. "No, it won't answer, but what you say can be shown to other people so that they can get to know you. If you want, of course."

Tris smiles, and turns back to the camera, unsure where to look. She wears small dark glasses that contrast with her blond hair.

"I am Tris. You already know that. Caleb talks a lot to the camera."

Beside her, Caleb smiles frankly. She states the fact with disconcerting naturalness.

"I know who I am, and how I got here. What is important is that everyone wanted me to be here. Or at least the people I know. I don't know about the others. Here, they look after me as if I were still a baby. Now, I would like to be useful too."

She turns to Caleb:

"I'm not saying that to be mean! But I'm fine now, I would like to…"

She turns to the camera.

"I don't know what I would like. To see all the other things I haven't seen. I'm not Beatrice. I am not a Dauntless. "

Christina can't help but laugh. Tobias is motionless.

Livid.

Desperately happy. Beautifully sad.

"But maybe I can learn other things? I know the city is still sick, but it will heal, like me. I hope I will have a place with you in the city."

She turns quickly back to Caleb.

"Yes! I know what I want! I saw your library, Caleb. You worked at the library. I would like to be a student and go to the library where people and computers know everything!"

Tobias can't help but smile with a shake of his head.

"At the library. We'll go, I'll take you, or Sandra if you prefer." says Caleb. Tris smiles back and looks at the camera again.

"Sandra has done a lot for me. She too has a family, maybe she wants to have time alone with her family now. I have to live without help, and help others now." She pauses and frowns a bit.

"I saw ugly things in Caleb's head. I don't understand war. All the people fighting looked the same to me, with the same bodies, even if their skin wasn't always like mine. I don't understand why people can't see that. Caleb has bad people in his head, and lots of nice people too. He says that sometimes we like people, and sometimes we don't like them. I don't understand loving. But it looks good!"

Christina laughs, Tris's candor and naturalness are refreshing. Tobias feels his heart tighten, despite Tris's humor and involuntarily infantile way of talking. It's good to love, yes, except when you no longer can …

"Do I still have to speak?" Tris asks Caleb. "You decide." replies the young man next door. "If we go to the library, I'll talk to the camera later. Do we also have to be polite with a camera?" Caleb laughs. "No, fine, unless you have to talk to well-identified people. This is a general message, so you don't have to be particularly polite. I'm just going to finish recording. Will you give me back my chair?"

Tris gets up and walks away, already looking for another way to keep herself busy. Caleb moves back into the seat.

"As you have seen, Tris has progressed a lot, despite certain mistakes and a way of speaking that is sometimes a bit childish. She's almost completely autonomous, but she still needs sociological and behavioral references to adapt to our culture. For the rest, she's ready."

Caleb's finger reaches for the camera and the image cuts off.


End file.
